


The Black Veela

by Dramione84



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Autoerotic Asphyxiation, F/M, Hallucinations, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Self-Harm, Sexual Assault, Sexual Coercion, Sexual Violence, Strangulation, Violence, erotic asphyxiation, physical assault, possible mental illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 22:52:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9628763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dramione84/pseuds/Dramione84
Summary: Astoria Greengrass wants one thing in life: To be a Prima ballerina.  When an eccentric director with a penchant for the dark arts gives her the part of ‘The Black Veela’, she achieves her dream and is crowned the season’s Prima ballerina.  As she delves deeper into the part, obsessed with the perfect performance, Astoria finds herself unraveling.  Her dream is realised, but at what cost?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Death_by_Quill](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Death_by_Quill) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Round One Only  
> Theme: Obsession
> 
> Inspired by the plot of The Black Swan (2010) directed by Darren Aronofsky, written by Mark Heyman. (“I felt it. Perfect. It was perfect,” direct quote).  
> With thanks as always to my beta xx

Ever since she was five years old, Astoria Greengrass had dreamt of nothing else than becoming a Prima ballerina.  Her governess, Marie-Anne, had encouraged her desire, nurturing her remarkable talent as she had grown into a very accomplished dancer.  Now, at the age of eighteen, she had arrived at the Royal Academy to audition for the role of ‘The Black Veela’.  

The director was the eccentric recluse with a dark past, Draco Malfoy.  Rumour had it he had a penchant for the dark arts, as well as sleeping with his cast.  As Astoria walked into the studio, her baby pink dance bag slung casually over her shoulder, she felt the heat of his gaze as he allowed his eyes to wander over her.  The other girls hushed their casual chatter, watching her stride confidently across the room, her pouting lips as tight as the severe bun into which her blonde hair was pulled.

Finding a corner for herself, she took out her black satin ballet shoes, slipping them on her feet.  She pulled one leg under herself, tucking her toes in, as she started her warm-up.  The other girls began to converse once more, the hum of their chatter filling the room.  

Stretching her arms, Astoria turned her head to one side, tilting her chin upwards in a haughty manner as her eyes locked with Draco’s across the room.   Waving away the assistant who stood next to him trying desperately to get Draco to approve changes to the choreography, he stood from his canvas chair, striding over to where Astoria sat.

Paying him no heed as his smoldering eyes bored into her from above, Astoria twisted to the other side to continue warming up her muscles.

“Look at me,” his low voice commanded, forcing Astoria to suppress the shudder as the timbre of his words vibrated through her.  Slowly, she brought her eyes up, looking up at him in a seductive yet coy way.

“Out,” he all but whispered, Astoria’s eyes darting to his in shock.  She felt her stomach twist, bitter bile rising, as he curled his lips into a sneer.  His icy blue stare was cold as it penetrated her, piercing her heart as she trembled before him.  

Grabbing her things, she rushed from the room, the other dancers pausing their own warm up routines to gasp in horror at the drama. Glaring at the young girls with unbridled contempt, he stormed from the studio leaving the perplexed dancers in his wake.  

Reaching the end of the corridor, Astoria paused, slumping against the wall in a vain effort to calm herself down.  Willing the tears that pricked not to fall, and the dark crimson stain of her alabaster cheeks to lessen, she closed her eyes.   She trembled with fear as she heard the confident footsteps stride towards her.  Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she felt the hot breath on her collarbone, aware of his sudden proximity.

Opening her eyes, she couldn’t help the small gasp that fell from her lips as she stared up into his eyes once more.  Draco stood mere centimeters from her, his tall, muscular frame towering above her.  Instinctually, Astoria pressed further back into the cold stone wall, her palms splaying on the rough surface of the stone, grazing her delicate skin.  

His expensive cologne engulfed her senses in an olfactory assault, her stomach swimming as he pressed his well-toned body into hers.  

Against her better judgment she felt highly aroused by his predatory stance, desire pooling in her lower abdomen as her pulse quickened. Her chest rose and fell, the exposed flesh of her decolletage pressing against him.

“Why are you here, me nénette petite?” he whispered, his hot breath ghosting across her face as she trembled with fear and desire.  

“To audition, Monsieur Malfoy,” Astoria replied, her small voice cracking.

Draco sneered as he stepped back, his eyes drifting hungrily over her body.  “You do not have what it takes to be ‘The Black Veela’,” he mocked, his eyes darkening, amused.

Astoria glared up at him.  “Yes I do,” she spat her retort as he chuckled, a dangerous look in his eyes.

“Prove it: The Black Veela is a temptress; a seductress.  She is the embodiment of eroticism,” he sneered, his lip curling as he stepped back into her space, her body pressing firmly into the icy cold stone.  He dipped his face towards hers and for a moment Astoria thought he was going to kiss her.  She shut her eyes, holding her breath as her heart pounded in her chest.  

“Go home, me nénette petite.  Go home and masturbate for me,” he whispered, his lips grazing the shell of her ear as her eyes snapped open in shock.

Pulling her hands from the wall, she shoved him forcefully away, rushing down the corridor and out of the Academy.

* * *

Astoria awoke in a pool of sweat, her sheets clinging to her naked, lithe frame.  Tossing them violently to one side, her chest rising and falling rapidly with her breathing, she stared at the ceiling.  Remembering Draco’s earlier instruction, she felt herself throb, lust building like a crescendo until she could take no more.  

Trailing her fingers down her slick torso, she shivered violently as her fingers grazed over her folds, already coated in the tell-tale signs of her heightened erotic state. Her mouth fell open, a low moan emitting from her lips as her fingertips circled her clit.  She pictured Draco towering above her as she spread her legs wantonly, her pelvic walls contracting deliciously as her mind filled with images of him sliding into her.  She was almost sure she could feel him there, her free hand reaching out, vaguely alarmed as her hand splayed across his taut pectoral muscles.  She arched her back, as he penetrated her core once more, her fingers brushing rapidly over her clit.  Draco sped up, thrusting into her powerfully as she tightened around him, each stroke sending her closer and closer to the edge of her ever increasing desire.  

As Astoria arched her back again in a deep curve, she felt his hands encircle her throat, gripping tighter and tighter, choking her.  She struggled for breath as her orgasm hit, her body convulsing rapidly.  

Fisting the sheets, she continued to shake frantically against the hand clamped down on her throat.  She fought with everything she had, finally pushing herself off the bed, coughing as her hands came up to her throat, the air burning as it filled her lungs.  Struggling to the dresser, she gripped the top as she pulled herself more upright, reaching out for the light switch.   Suddenly the room was emblazoned, her eyes wide with fear and shock as she realised she was alone in the room.

* * *

Astoria stared at the notices pinned up outside the studio in shock as the other dancers congratulated her on securing the part of ‘The Black Veela.’  She would be the season’s Prima ballerina.  

Draco took her hand, beaming with pride as he guided her along the darkened corridors to the stage.  As she stared out from the shadows of the wings to where the spotlight lit up in the middle of the stage, she felt his hands encircle her waist.  Spinning around suddenly, she was shocked to find him smiling warmly at her.  “Ma Cherie, you are ma belle,” he told her sincerely, before capturing her lips in a soft, sensuous kiss.  

Opening her mouth to deepen the kiss, she wrapped her arms around his neck, groaning as he massaged her tongue with his own.  Pulling back against her arms, he smiled seductively at her.  “I want to ‘descend à la cave’,” he told her, a low chuckle rumbling through him at her naivety as he dropped to his knees, nudging her legs apart with his nose as he breathed her erotic scent in deeply.

Astoria felt him slip her leotard and knickers to one side, his tongue assaulting her as she gripped his hair in an effort to keep her balance. Across the stage in the opposite wing, she locked eyes with a young dancer who looked just like her, wearing the costume of ‘The White Veela’, the ethereal feathers of her decadent wings glistening as they spread beautifully.  

Mesmerised, she watched as the young girl moved to the spotlight, beginning her dance.  She moaned as Draco’s tongue delved deeper, drinking her in, eyes locking with the beautiful dancer’s as she turned her head towards Astoria.  Astoria moaned once more as her knees buckled slightly, feeling Draco dig his hands to her pert bottom, his teeth grazing her plump flesh hungrily.  He bit down on her clit causing her to cry out, anger rising from somewhere deep inside her as she watched the dancer perform the moves of her own dance.  

Screaming with rage, she pushed Draco away forcefully, striding across the stage.  Her fingers grabbed hold of the other dancer’s wrist, her nails digging in as she dragged the young girl backstage.  She felt warm liquid coat her fingertips as she forced open her dressing room door, flinging the hysterical dancer across the floor like a rag doll.  

Astoria’s hands found their way into the young girl’s hair, gripping it tightly as she yanked her up, slamming her body into the dressing room mirror, shattering it. Shards of glass fell to the floor as her hands tightened into fists that pounded repeatedly into the young dancer’s torso.  

Astoria howled with rage, as the young girl scrambled frantically, trying to escape her frenzied attack.  Feeling a slither of glass slice open her hand, she gripped it tightly, stabbing the girl repeatedly until she no longer writhed underneath her.  

Panic rose in her chest as she pulled back horrified at what she had done.  Her eyes darted around the room, as her mind reeled.  Catching sight of the open closet door, she stood up, her legs threatening to give way.  Grabbing hold of the lifeless girl’s arm, she dragged the heavy corpse over to the closet, shoving it roughly inside.

Collapsing heavily against the closet door, she stared in disbelief at the blood that now streaked the floor.

“No, no, no,” she sobbed, fear and panic overwhelming her senses as she rushed from the room.  Pushing open the side door to the academy, she broke into a run, tearing down the alleyway that ran alongside the building.  Finding herself at a flint wall, she scrambled over it, landing heavily in the damp ivy that was overgrowing the wall.

Starting at the sound of a howl, her fingers clawing at the undergrowth, she scrambled to her feet, spinning around rapidly, her breath misting in the cold evening air. She blinked rapidly as she tried to discern her surroundings.  Somehow she had ended up in the cemetery, the moon casting eerie shadows that frightened her. Looking down confused at her damp hands, she screamed as she saw the crimson blood coating her fingers and palms.  

Sobbing, she stumbled along the gravel pathway, clambering over rocks and graves.  Miscalculating her step, she tripped and fell, smashing her head against a crumbling granite headstone, tumbling as she fell into the darkness.

* * *

Astoria awoke with a start, drenched in her own sweat.  She tore the sheets away from her naked body, her eyes darting about the room, panicked.  Seeing nothing amiss, her eyes fell on the bedside clock that read eight fifteen.  Groaning at her own tardiness, she slipped from the bed, padding over to the bathroom.  

As she passed the mirror, she was horrified to see two deep wounds cleaving her shoulder blades open.  Back to the mirror, she tried to twist herself around for a better view but found she could not.  An idea forming in her mind, she rushed back into the bedroom, searching for her mobile.  Gripping the sheet, she pulled it back in case she had fallen asleep with it as she often did.  

Astoria jumped back in fright before leaning in confused, her fingertips brushing the glistening black feathers.  She pulled her fingertips back, shocked to find them coated in crimson.  Wide eyes still fixed on the feathers, she reached for her pillow, lifting it up and locating her phone.  

Scrambling back into the bathroom, she stared at the mirror in disbelief, her alabaster skin smooth and perfect with no hint of the wounds she had seen before.

* * *

Stunned, Astoria allowed the young dancer to wrap her arms around her as she walked into the dressing room for the opening night’s performance.  Strong arms wrapped around her as Draco pressed his lips against the bare flesh of her shoulder, peppering kisses across her sensitive skin.

“You will be sensational tonight, ma belle,” he told her, his seductive tone eliciting a shiver as he nodded before disappearing down the corridor and towards the auditorium.  Making her way across the room, her eyes were transfixed by the broken glass that splintered her reflection.

* * *

Filing out with the other dancers, she waited in the wings for her moment, ready for the spotlight to claim her as ‘The Black Veela’.  It would be the crowning moment of her career as she emerged as the Prima Ballerina.

* * *

The thunderous applause of the audience rumbled through Astoria as they scrambled to their feet in a standing ovation.  From the front row, Draco beamed with pride as she bent in a graceful bow.  

Standing tall once more, she was startled by the sudden flashes as the press photographers went into a frenzy.  Staggering back, she stumbled, collapsing on the stage as people gasped with horror.  

Draco rushed up the stage steps to her side, his hands frantically roaming over her body, pulling back in fear and anguish as they coated in the same crimson that pooled around her.  Her wings that spread around her, curled inward, shielding her from the blinding stage lights as Draco sobbed, pulling her close.

“I felt it. Perfect. It was perfect,” she whispered, as darkness enveloped her one final time.


End file.
